Many people think the wind turbines will bring in a lot of money for the schools. It’ll only pay a percentage for five years. The school will be paid so much for each child’s tuition so the smaller schools in the county won’t get much money. It’ll go to the more populated schools distributed by the state.
Heavy equipment and trucks will destroy the roads and will cost a great deal of money to repair. There will be 27 large trucks with a blade on each, causing road damage. The hub is 36 tons in weight without blades, the generator weighs 61 tons and the blades are over seven tons on smaller turbines in White Lake area, and the ones projected for Sanborn County are a third larger and will weigh more accordingly.
My suggestion is to put them in a less populated area instead of close to my home. Would you want the noise, shadows and landscape of a wind turbine within 1,500 feet of your house so that you can see it while you are looking out your front window or see and hear it while you are mowing your lawn? What would it do to the resale value of your house or farm? If it does lower the value, then the tax valuation should be lowered.
How close to your house would you want one? What’s to stop a neighbor or an out-of-the-area landlord from putting one in front of your house?
Talking to the state legislator’s, the money provided to the schools on taxes for the turbines will disappear in five years; so this tax increment will be depleted, and the school tax will go back to the old system and therefore reducing the benefits to the school and our future leaders. The new taxes for teachers implemented this 2016 legislative year does not take into consideration the wind energy factors, which will be disappear in five years. The Congressman said that there has been no discussion so far, but there is possibility the wind turbine income may be paid to the state and taken away from the county and the
townships.
I am not against energy but put them in a less populated area. Every time you step outside your front or back door, would you like to stare at a wind turbine 500 feet tall? Would you like them by your house? How close would you want a tower to your house?
There is a lot of information on a web site, www.we-caresd.org.
Mary Ann Blindauer
Letcher, SD

Watermelons have always been synonymous with the tiny town of Forestburg, but also the Hinker family who were our classmates, friends and neighbors. This week we sadly say our farewell to Lee Hinker, a native son. I would like the focus to be not on his ending days but on the journey of his life.
Lee was always a budding entrepreneur, thinking of new ways to build a business. After going to school for refrigeration, he was our local go to guy when your air conditioner went on the blink. As so often happens, they tend to break down on the hottest days of the year. Even on the Fourth of July, you could count on Lee to drop his plans to come to the rescue with a grin and maybe a promise of a cold beer.
Only Lee could have come up with the idea of a traveling hot tub that he would transport on a trailer to party locations. Evidently back then, we had no fear of germs as multiple people used it over and over. He was a pioneer for party planners.
Broadening his horizons in 1983 with his good friend, Mark Snedeker, they purchased the old brick school at Lane, and transformed it into THE place to be on the weekend, bringing in bands to play. They brought us the “Leap to Lane” concerts with headliner Johnny Holmes to sell out crowds – our version of Woodstock in the middle of a field. (I don’t remember if we even had port-a-potties!)
It was there at Lane that we celebrated his wedding to Janet Authier. I still remember how tiny and exquisite she looked in her dress. Lee returned to his Forestburg roots and entered into the farming operation and his watermelon and tomato business. Lee and Janet welcomed their son, Drew, to this world, and every Christmas card featured Drew and usually their beloved dogs.
Lee was a friendly competitor in the melon world. He loved to stop along the road and “shoot the s_ _t” and see whose melons were doing the best or what hail catastrophe had wreaked havoc on whose field. Lee’s staked out melon territory was Aberdeen for pumpkins and tomato crops.
I personally cannot think of pheasant season without thinking of Lee, Milt Authier and the Minnesota boys. Hunting season was the best time of the year for friends to enjoy. After the local Ducks Unlimited banquet, Georgia and I could count on their group to pay us a visit at Don’s Silver Dollar. Every year, they questioned me on what I was saving my tip money for. They loved the fact that one year I was saving for an air conditioner for my bedroom. (I lamented the fact that it was too hot to have sex!) They came to my rescue and I had enough for a lovely little 110. My love life was saved.
Lee also came up with the phrase “The Baysinger Stomp” to describe me when I had my temper up. He would do a windup with his leg similar to a pitcher on the mound much to everyone’s delight to mimic me. I could never stay angry after watching a few times.
During everyone’s life, we all choose a different path with wrong choices, oftentimes one that your family cannot help you divert from, even with their love and support. So it was with Lee. It was not how we wanted it to end for our friend.
Thinking of the
good times,
Dee Baby

Dynasty – A powerful group or family that maintains its position for a considerable time. – Merriam Webster Dictionary
When Lars Herseth ran for governor in 1986, he was attempting to achieve something unusual, even rare, in politics. His father, Ralph, had been governor in 1959-60, and for a son to follow in his father’s footsteps at such a high political plane was the stuff of novels and celluloid film.
It was not to be, and by the narrowest of margins the job went to George Mickelson, also the son of a previous governor.
For South Dakota, it was a choice between two highly qualified and gifted public servants. Either would have been a fine governor, and one of them was, though he died tragically in office in an April 1993 plane crash.
Now, something even more exceptional is happening. The son of Gov. George Mickelson is running for his dad’s old office.  If George Mark Mickelson is successful, it will be, as far as I have been able to find out, the rarest of accomplishments. To label it a “three-peat” is to trivialize the challenge, and indeed, the young Mickelson, who goes by Mark, cannot rely on his name or pedigree to win the race in 2018.
He will have at least one primary challenger in Attorney General Marty Jackley, and possibly Congresswoman Kristi Noem, though I believe that is unlikely. And the Democrats will also have something to say about who will be this state’s 33rd governor.
Still, contemplating three governors from the same family in generational succession is politically and historically fascinating. When this discussion occurs, conversation often turns to Rhode Island, where John Chafee served as the 66th governor. His son, Lincoln, was the 74th governor, and John Chafee’s great-grandfather, Henry Lippitt, was 33rd governor of the Ocean State.
Similar to what might be, or could be, in South Dakota, but not the same.
If Mark Mickelson is to win the governor’s race, he will have to show the people of South Dakota that his vision is better than that of his competitors. He has already shared one goal: Expand value-added agriculture to broaden and better our state’s employment opportunities.
“Political dynasty” is a term that is somewhat misleading when referring to the Mickelsons. It’s been 23 years since George Mickelson was governor – a generation. And in South Dakota, names by themselves aren’t enough. Yes, name ID is helpful in politics, but Mickelson’s success will depend not on his name, but on his abilities.